


One of Us Now

by lonelyprinces



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Past Child Abuse, Recovery, Self-Worth, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, god i love that tag so much, past trauma, set during the western air temple episodes, wandering into the avatar fandom 15 years late, zuko is their friend now and they love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyprinces/pseuds/lonelyprinces
Summary: These days, Zuko's constantly reevaluating what's normal.
Relationships: The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 1782
Collections: Quality Fics





	One of Us Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hot_leaf_juice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_leaf_juice/gifts).



> HUGE thank-you to @hot_leaf_juice, who helped me brainstorm this story (+ pulled me out of my creative rut)! <3

It’s an evening like any other in the Western Air Temple, but tonight they’re celebrating. Aang’s completed his training with the Sun Warriors, thank Agni. That means more gleeful chattering than usual, interspersed with Sokka’s bad jokes and the steady croaking of badgerfrogs.

For the first time since joining Team Avatar, Zuko’s heartbeat slows to an even pace. It’s almost as if he’s been here forever, he thinks, mouth turning upward in a wry grin.

“Looky here, someone’s in a good mood,” Sokka says, noticing immediately and leaning over to ruffle Zuko’s hair. Zuko is about to protest but thinks better of it. “What’s on your mind, bud?”

“You look as giddy as Aang does when he shows us Air Nomad games,” Katara giggles, and Aang heartily agrees.

“Air Nomad games?” Zuko asks vacantly.

“Oh yeah!” Aang says. “Airbending’s not just for fighting, you know. You can have fun, too! I’ll have to show you airball sometime.”

“Oh, Twinkletoes,” Toph snorts. “We’ve gotta get you some other hobbies besides airbending. I’m beginning to worry about you.”

“Hey, I have other hobbies!”

“In his defense,” Katara says with an amused smile, “He’s a good swimmer, almost as good as me. And you should’ve seen him when we visited the Elephant Koi on Kyoshi. He rode them like a natural!”

Zuko’s head is reeling. Airball? Elephant Koi? What’s all this?

“We gotta take a break from training sometimes,” Sokka clarifies in a stage-whisper. “When it gets really intense, we balance it out with free days. Well, we _did_ , anyway, before things got serious.”

“Free days?” Zuko asks.

“Y’know. Days to pursue hobbies, cultivate the mind and such?”

“Sokka, ‘cultivate the mind’?” Toph cackles.

“Yeah, with books and stuff! Some of us like to read for fun!”

“You haven’t even touched a book since our adventure in the library,” Katara insists.

“Yeah, but I _did_ have fun! Well, until the whole building started sinking and all.”

“Guys, I think we’re just confusing Zuko,” Katara says, turning to the fire prince with an apologetic smile. “Anyway, you’ve probably picked up on this by now, but we try to have a good time around here. Otherwise we’d probably go crazy.”

“What about you, Zuko?” Aang asks. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“For fun?” Zuko asks, in that same muted tone.

“Yeah, your interests!” Sokka says. “Hobbies, passions, favorite foods? Weird fetishes? I’m kidding about that last one,” he says, but the wink accompanying these words suggests otherwise.

“Why do you want to know?” Zuko demands, cursing himself for sounding so stiff.

“Well, we’re your friends,” Aang says. “And friends talk about that stuff, right? And do that stuff together sometimes.”

“You … want to know about my hobbies?” Zuko says.

It’s weirdly quiet around the campfire all of a sudden.

“Yeah, buddy, of course we do,” Sokka says. He smiles, but his brow is furrowed. “We already know about how much you liked chasing Aang around back in the day, so pick a different one, if you please.” 

“Does that qualify as a weird fetish?” Toph asks mischievously, which earns her Katara’s elbow in the side and Zuko’s helpless sputtering.

“Well … I do … I did like the theatre,” Zuko says, heat rising in his cheeks. “Back when they used to visit the palace. And we’d see a play every year on Ember Island, but it was never very good—” His good eye sparkles visibly; his heart beats even faster when he sees how the others look on with interest. “I was mostly around my sister and her friends growing up, though, so they didn’t get it. Well, Ty Lee sort of humored me, but Azula just called me a big nerd.” A self-conscious pause. “I mean, she wasn’t wrong, but still …”

“Aww, Zuko, that’s really sweet,” Katara says, surprised and delighted. “I never would’ve pegged you for a theatre kid.”

“Did you ever act yourself?” Aang asks, leaning forward on his knees. “Or did you mostly watch?”

“Oh, Agni, I watched,” Zuko says, with a genuine laugh this time. “I think you’ve all seen how socially clueless I am by now. Getting in front of a crowd? No way.”

They all laugh along with him then. It’s not the same laughter he got from Azula when he mentioned theatre in her presence; it’s more the “oh, yeah, we feel ya” variety. Zuko can’t explain how he knows this.

“Well, now we gotta stop at Ember Island,” Sokka declares. “I wanna see Zuko-as-critic so bad it’s killing me.”

The conversation transitions smoothly to fun vacation activities. Zuko tunes out here and there, conscious of a giddy thumping in his chest, loud like a war drum. Over the past three years, he’s almost forgotten how much of a theatre nerd he was himself; he’s accustomed to pushing that part of himself down low. But here it is, in Team Avatar’s presence, of all places, bubbling back up to the surface again.

* * *

Zuko’s not sure what he expects when he meets Hakoda, but it certainly isn’t this. The chieftain has the no-nonsense attitude down when he chooses to; no doubt he’ll do well when it comes time to confront the Fire Nation. Zuko can immediately see where Sokka inherited his resourceful nature, and Katara her spirit.

Hakoda’s also, well … such a _dad_ , and that means something far different from what Zuko ever imagined. For one, there’s the great big barrel hug he gives both of his kids. They complain that he’s crushing them, but they also seem to be enjoying it? Tears leak out of Katara’s eyes, and then the dam breaks, and she’s full-on sobbing. Sokka follows suit, and even Hakoda’s chin wobbles a little. There are no stern words, however; no reprimands to stop being such sissies. The hugs just get tighter, and the laughter overpowers the tears.

Zuko stands on the periphery, clutching at his red tunic for something to do with his hands. Katara, as if sensing his discomfort, turns around.

“Zuko, get in here!” she says, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I—” Zuko’s throat burns, his feet heavy as the stones Toph likes to bend.

“Dad, Zuko helped us get you outta that prison!” Sokka says, practically bouncing on his heels. “That means he’s like, your honorary son now, right?”

Hakoda laughs good-naturedly. “Well, you heard the kids,” he says to Zuko with a loony grin. “I always did want a third.”

“Ah—oh?” Zuko says, continuing to waffle.

He’s seen how fathers behave with their sons, of course—fathers that aren’t Fire Lord Ozai—but after all this time, it still takes some getting used to. In Ozai’s house, it was head down (unless you were Azula), don’t speak unless you’re spoken to, keep your nose out of war meetings and political affairs, _and anything that requires half a brain, you impudent boy_. Multi-person hugs and raucous laughter were completely out of the question.

Zuko stumbles forward; he’s tugged in between Katara and Sokka, with Hakoda, somehow, enveloping them all at once. His woolly mittens and thick fleece coat are warm, warmer than Appa’s fur. Zuko allows himself to lean into the hug, take comfort in it.

For a brief moment he imagines himself as truly one of this family, waking up to this warmth in his belly, this slow even thumping of his heart. Waking up to loving words and a clear complexion and two fully-functioning eyes, even. Wouldn’t _that_ be something.

Zuko’s stomach twists briefly with something unpleasant. He remembers an occasion where Azula was being praised for something, anything—it didn’t matter, it happened all the time. The feeling he’d get then, the silent cry, the _why not me?_ Zuko swallows, forcing the feeling down, at least for now.

* * *

“Spirits, Dad, you can’t just say things like that!” Katara says, her scowl powerful enough to turn a lesser being to stone. “You know Air Nomads aren’t just a bunch of hippie-dippies, right? I’m sure Aang can tell you that as soon as we get back.”

“Oh, shush, Katara, he’s just an old man,” Sokka snickers, leaning down to help Hakoda arrange their provisions to his liking.

Zuko, wrapping up a bundle of supplies himself, does everything he can to avoid eye contact. He knows Katara speaks her mind—and in this case, she’s right, no matter how trivial the disagreement—but how can she just come out and …

“Katara,” Hakoda says, turning and facing his daughter where she stands, arms crossed firmly over her chest.

_Oh, Agni, she’s going to get it._ Zuko clenches his jaw.

“Katara, you’re absolutely right,” Hakoda says, chuckling while Zuko quietly lets out a breath. “I mean, I’d rather you didn’t yell at me,” he says dryly, “or call me an old man,” he narrows his eyes at Sokka, “But you’re right. To be fair, I don’t know any Air Nomads personally, so I don’t have much information to go on.”

Katara nods, pitching a sigh of relief. “And we didn’t either, not until this past year,” she relents, holding her palms outward. “Sorry, Dad.”

“Nothing to worry about, kiddo.” Hakoda turns back to his packing; Sokka takes the opportunity to stick his tongue out in Katara’s direction. “So, tell me more about this Aang kid. He doesn’t sound like what I pictured a monk to be, but I think that’s what I like about him.”

The conversation moves forward, but Zuko doesn’t. Not that he was ever a natural conversationalist anyway, but this is something different. He ponders this stomach-clenching, throat-constricting, heart-racing feeling he gets whenever he sees Hakoda being a good dad, or Team Avatar being friendly with each other, for that matter. It’s inexplicable.

“Zuko, do we have enough food there to last us the week?” Sokka asks, shaking him out of his reverie.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Zuko mumbles, looking at his pack but not seeing.

* * *

Zuko rests on one of the fallen Air Temple pillars while Katara and Aang spar. His clothes are soaked through with sweat; he can’t imagine how Aang is faring, battling with Katara right after firebending practice. Better that he’s over-prepared than under, but still. Sokka and Toph, meanwhile, are off hunting somewhere—or off swindling townspeople, more like, Zuko thinks with a smirk. Whatever this new normal is his life has become, it’s at least predictable and pleasant.

“C’mon, Aang, don’t hold back!” Katara shouts. “Is that all you got?” The words would be mocking on paper, but the upward lilt to her voice only encourages Aang further. For every spray of water Aang returns, though, her responses vary from “well done!” to “amazing!” to “Aang, stars and spirits, that was perfect!” Their sparring is cutthroat, yes, but their sparkling eyes and lively grins suggest the opposite. Zuko watches the fight intently, finding the bending and the banter to be equally captivating.

At last, Aang trips her up, a quick thrust of lakewater sending Katara clean off her feet. Katara yelps and Zuko flinches. A less-experienced bender would’ve cracked her head open on the stones beneath her, but Katara covers her face and deflects part of the wave just in time. She’s down, but she’s not out. Not yet.

“Aang, that’s it, that’s exactly it!” she cries, sitting up straight and beaming. Aang floats over to her and helps her to her feet.

“You okay?”

“Of course. You did it, Aang! You saw what you did, right?”

Aang rubs his head sheepishly. “Well, I’m learning from the best.”

“Hold up,” Zuko says abruptly, pulling himself to his feet. “You guys are just gonna stop mid-battle? What happened to the ‘don’t hold back’?”

“That’s just what he did,” Katara says enthusiastically. “Trust me, it takes a lot to knock me off my feet like that.”

“But you were laughing and—and that’s not how it’s gonna go when you battle the Fire Lord. You know that, right?”

“Well, you know, positive reinforcement and all that,” Katara says, gazing at Zuko amusedly. “You’re just like Toph was, at first. Like a war general or something.”

“Isn’t that how you’re supposed to—?”

“Well, maybe for some people,” Katara says. “But we don’t do that around here. It’s not—well, it hasn’t been the most helpful method of training.”

“But … you’re still learning?” Zuko asks, glancing tentatively at Aang.

“Of course!” Aang says.

Zuko shakes his head vigorously. They’re all so damn _cheerful_ , so pleased with themselves. This would never be allowed back home. This would qualify as children play-fighting, being all friendly and encouraging with each other …

“You okay, Zuko?” Katara asks suddenly. A sort of chalky yellow color has appeared on his cheeks.

“Yeah, uh. I’m great. Fine.” He runs a clumsy hand through his hair. “Well, you two better keep at it. I’m gonna go, uh, get washed up.” He stumbles off, hearing both his sister’s and his father’s voices in his head all the while:

_Get up, little brother, you’re not even_ trying _._

_Is this the son they’ve given me? Won’t stand and fight for his honor?_

_Pathetic. I don’t see why Father allows this._

_Azula would never behave this way; there’s too much of Ursa in you …_

These images are replaced by Katara’s smiling face, her effortless praise:

_Nice work, Aang!_

_You’ve got it, you’re almost there!_

_Fire Lord Ozai won’t know what hit him!_

Zuko wanders through the Western Air Temple, finds his room and shuts himself inside. He’d scream or cry or both, but these days there are others around to hear him.

* * *

“Hey, Sparky, I was wondering …” Toph’s always wondering something, and it’s usually never out of innocent curiosity.

“Yeah, what is it?”

She jabs her thumb over her shoulder, motioning towards Aang and the others, sprawled around the fire in their own private conversation. “Do you, like, feel weird about Aang training to kill your dad? I mean, I don’t get on well with my old man either, but …”

“Not at all,” Zuko says without a pause.

“Oh?” Toph’s eyes grow wider and glassier than usual.

“I mean, he tried to kill me first …”

“That’s where you got the scar, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I feel like you’ve hinted at it once or twice.” She doesn’t say this unkindly. “I don’t blame you for not talking openly about it, either.”

“… Yeah.”

“It’s all kinds of fucked up,” Toph admits, startling Zuko with her language. “I mean, it’s really, _really_ fucked up.”

“I know.” Zuko lets out a hollow laugh, because what else is he supposed to do?

“Do the others know?”

Zuko shakes his head. “Guess I’d better just be out with it, huh?”

“Well, not until you’re ready, at least.” Toph elbows him affectionately. “You’re one of us now, Sparky. Maybe you’re the broody one, but we can’t let you be down in the dumps _all_ the time.” She frowns. “I’m not one to talk, but … sometimes talking about this stuff is helpful, especially when you’re with friends.”

“Hmm.”

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“All this—it’s a lot to get used to. Seeing everyone get along so well. Katara and Sokka … I don’t know … not being pitted against each other by their father? The way Aang trains, how everything’s sunshine and rainbows …” Zuko rubs his jaw, avoiding the scarred patch of skin around his eye like he always does. “It’s different.”

“Good different?”

“Yeah,” Zuko says. “Yeah, definitely.”

“But …?”

“But I swear, like ten times a day I have to reevaluate what’s normal. Remember that these, uh, these interactions that don’t make sense to me right away … it’s like, I don’t know. Realizing, ‘oh, that was the trauma,’ that’s why this doesn’t make sense.” Zuko sighs. “That’s kind of a flippant way to think about it, I guess, but I don’t know how else to say it.”

Toph nods. “That makes sense. No, really, it does. And if your uncle were here, I’m sure he’d say the same.”

“My uncle?” Zuko blinks. “Oh, that’s right. He sure knew how to strike up a conversation, didn’t he? Even with the enemy.”

Toph laughs. “He loves you, and he’d want you to be happy. And so do we, you dummy.”

“I, uh … thanks. But I betrayed him. He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. And you’ll have the chance to tell him that, I know it.” Toph elbows Zuko again, harder this time.

“ _Ow_ , hey!”

“Sorry, Sparky. I just really wanna get through that thick skull of yours.”

“I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

And this time, he really does.


End file.
